Awkward (Yogscast Teencast)
by WannaPlayKevinBacon
Summary: A collection of one-shots revolving around the Teencast! Fluff, mild angst, comedy and general awkward teenage nonsense. Sips, Sjin, Honeydew, Xephos, Rythian, Lalna, Lomadia, Nilesy, Ridgedog, Hat Films. I bumped the rating to M. (Cursing, adult content, slash, mild violence)
1. Pretty Please

A/N: Yep, it's Teencast time. This is sort of a cross between a one-shot collection and a chapter story. The one-shots effect one another but they're not all necessarily going to follow a continued storyline. Ok super lets get to it.

Warnings: Cursing, mild suggestive content, slash

* * *

Sips scrubbed his hands on his cheeks as he sat in his car. The ample exhaust had already rolled off into the morning air, the engine gone cold. Despite nerves, the chill was starting to bite into him enough to push him out of the car and slowly-carefully on the ice-up the stairs to the large Mahogany door that eyed him like a monster.

Smoothing his borrowed suit, he lifted a pale, calloused hand and knocked.

Silence stretched out for what felt like an eternity and while the short hair stood up on the back of Sips' neck he forced himself to stand firm, "Don't puss out now, you bastard," he muttered.

When the door opened Sips puffed out his chest, "Sips?" a voice hissed and he smiled.

"Heya Sjin, your dad home?"

Sjin glanced over his shoulder and stepped out, closing the door behind him, "We're having breakfast. It's nine in the morning. Are you sick?"

"I'm gonna fucking do it, Sjin, just like we said. I'm gonna ask his permission to marry you."

Sjin's face went white, "Sips I was joking!" he said, "And we're in highschool!"

"Not for that much longer, we're seventeen and I know you were kidding, dumb dumb, but I'm not."

Sjin jumped when the door opened behind him and his father stepped outside, "Sips I'm begging you," he muttered.

Sips ignored Sjin and straightened back up, trying to appear as confident as possible standing in front of Sjin's towering father, "What's going on out here?" the man asked sternly.

"Uh, Sips was just coming by on his way to..."

"Prison?"

"No, to ch-church," Sjin stammered, "Just to say good morning. Well bye Sips don't be late!"

Sips took a small breath, psyching himself back up despite Sjin's little display, "Sir," and it hurt to say that word, "I'm here to ask for your permission to marry your son."

Sjin's father's expression was unreadable, "Son, go inside."

"Dad," Sjin said softly.

"Inside."

Sjin gave Sips one last apologetic look before stepping inside and closing the door. Sips stood up as straight as he could, waiting for his answer, "No."

"No?"

"Let me elaborate, then," the man said, looking down his nose at Sips, "My wife insisted we send Sjin to a public elementary school despite my wishes, and then when it came time for boarding school, he'd already met you. Against my better judgment I humored my son and let him stay in the public school system, but I refuse to let you destroy his future more than you already have. When Sjin graduates, I'll make sure he goes to a University as far away from you as he can, even if that means sending my boy to space. Do I make myself clear?"

Sips remained silent, dumbfounded and seething beneath a shaky facade. When the man turned and marched inside, Sips turned and stomped off the porch, taking time to stop and kick one of the stone gargoyles at the base of the steps. His foot flared in pain but the stone gave way too and Sips made his way quickly back to his car, peeling out long black lines on the driveway as he sped his way off of the property.

* * *

"But what did your Dad say to him?" Lalna asked, leaning across the lunch table.

"I have no idea," Sjin said miserably, "But Sips just left and he kicked over one of my mother's Parisian gargoyles."

"That thing was the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen," Sips muttered as he sat beside his boyfriend, "The yard's better off."

Sjin sighed, "I told you, Sips-"

"It's not a big deal," Sips dismissed.

"It is!" Sjin snapped, "I begged you!"

Sips scowled at the berating he was met with, "Fuck you!"

Exasperated, Sjin rested his forehead on Sips' shoulder, "I'm sorry that this happened."

"Don't," Sips muttered, trying to push him away.

"Don't," Sjin echoed, wrapping his arms around the boy to keep them pressed together.

"So," Lalna said brightly, "Who wants to hear about my weekend?"

"I do!" Rythian, Lalna's best friend and usual shadow, said as he sat at their table, "I was there but it's an amazing story."

"I'm out," Sips said, standing and giving Sjin a firm pat on the shoulder before walking over to the table where his friends sat, "Alright, mate?" Smithy greeted, "You missed practice yesterday."

"Something came up."

Back at the previous table, Rythian and Lalna gave Sjin twin looks of sympathetic disapproval, "What DO you see in him?" Lalna said.

"Why don't you just tell me the story nobody wants to hear?" Sjin said, folding his arms.

* * *

Sips' car rattled loudly as Sjin jogged through the cold, climbing into the passenger seat. They didn't speak for a moment as Sjin warmed his hands in front of the one working vent. Once he was comfortable he glanced over, "It was an ugly statue."

Sips remained silent, staring at the cars in front of them. Sjin pressed on, "My mom was pissed."

That got a twitch, not a smile, but close. Time to pull out the big guns, "You're a crazy son of a bitch and I am going to marry you."

Sips grinned then and Sjin's heart fluttered, "Yeah you are."

Sjin held on to the vinyl seat beneath him as Sips sped away from the school, the clunker's engine complaining loudly at the abuse, "You really are crazy," Sjin said.

"You make me crazy."

That made him blush, "Where are we going?"

The hill just at the edge of town that overlooked the train depot had been their spot since they were old enough to walk that far. It was on Sips' side of town, and Sjin's parents would have swallowed their tongues to know how many times they'd been there in the dark, holding hands or kissing or drinking whatever Sips had gotten out of his mother's unlocked liquor cabinet.

Today they passed around a half-empty bottle of apple rum until Sjin couldn't drink anymore, but Sips wasn't a lightweight. He gulped down the last few burning swallows before tossing the bottle down to shatter on the gravel at the bottom of the hill, "This town's a fucking joke," he said.

"It's not that bad."

"No Sjin I swear to God it makes me sick thinking about you being here one fucking day longer than you have to," Sips said.

Sjin pulled his knees to his chest and stared out at the trains' ever growing shadows. He only knew the town as far as his fancy gated community stretched, or what he saw from under Sips' protective arm. Sips knew the reality of it, the quiet, cyclical, hopeless determination of the lower middle class. He saw the struggles to pay bills, tearful arguments over layoffs and overtime, the way his parents came to hate one another; he sat awake in the dark the night his father left, unwilling or unable to go out and comfort his hysterical mother.

Even though Sjin knew all of this, he was too young to understand-or didn't want to-what it did to a person, the cynicism, the self-loathing, all of it that Sips hid beneath his dirty mouth and ridiculous jokes.

"Sips, we're not going to be stuck here. You're gonna be my hot trophy husband in the big city."

Sips chuckled, "I am pretty sure when we started dating we agreed you'd be the trophy."

"Well I am growing a sexy mustache for you," Sjin said.

Sips glanced over and shook his head but he was still smiling, "That thing?"

"It's not done!" Sjin protested, rubbing his face, "I don't want to be an architect anymore."

"Yeah you do."

"No, I want to drop out of school and run away with you," Sjin said, "I want to be hobos."

"You won't go eight hours without brushing your teeth and you want to be a hobo? The amazing hobo clown Sjin and his trusty toothbrush, touring the country, making stops at every diner with an unlocked bathroom to fight the good fight against gum disease."

"Don't laugh," Sjin said, "There's a long line of noble clowns that practice traveling dentistry."

Sips was too drunk to quip, so he just shook his head, "Jesus, Sjin that sounds like a fucking horror movie," he said and they both dissolved into laughter, tears in their eyes.

"It's freezing," Sjin said, "How's your car on gas?"

Sips stood and managed to make his way to the car and start it without looking too drunk, "Good enough."

"Good," Sjin said standing as well and climbing into the back seat, stretching out on the faux leather, "Turn the heat on."

Sips smiled again, his real, warm smile that made Sjin's stomach do flips. He cranked the heat up before climbing into the back, "You know you're probably gonna freeze to the seat."

"So keep me warm," Sjin said, and the kiss that came was long and hard and desperate, the kiss of young, stupid love. Sips tasted like the apple rum and smelled like a combination of alcohol, the school's metal shop and the aftershave he used when he bothered to shave instead of rubbing his stubble against Sjin's cheek to hear him squeal about rug burn, "Promise me you'll ask again."

Sips' kisses moved to Sjin's neck, "I hate making promises," he muttered.

"Do it anyway."

* * *

It was another cold Sunday morning and Sjin's house was filled with the smell of syrup, coffee and crisp newspaper. The Sunday breakfast tradition had held as long as Sjin could remember, dragging himself downstairs-usually after sneaking in far too late the night before-and being as cheery as possible while he listened to his father go on about the week's stock fluctuations, trying not to roll his eyes.

There was a little shiver of excitement at the back of Sjin's mind this Sunday, though there had certainly been no spoken promises. The help didn't come in on Sundays, and so Sjin was banished back to the kitchen to do dishes, his excitement turning into a ball of dread that was trying to crawl it's way up and out of his heart, sitting heavy in the back of his throat. Sips wasn't exactly the most dedicated guy, though his loyalty was undeniable. He had never been one to try at something difficult, unlike Sjin who didn't feel comfortable celebrating an accomplishment that hadn't brought him to frustrated tears at least once.

Doing nothing to ease his mind, Sjin's father didn't try to hide the smugness in his voice, "Looks like we're going to have a nice quiet morning, Sjin."

"Right Dad," Sjin replied, trying not to react.

"Maybe we could look at some of the universities I want you to apply to. It's never too early to start."

Sjin's shoulders slumped despite his brave front, "Alright. I'm just going to..." He trailed off when his ears caught the familiar rumble of an unmuffled engine.

Glancing out the window, he caught sight of Sips coming up the walk in his suit and his face broke out into a grin.

* * *

A/N: So there it is. I hope it wasn't painful to read. I'm not really fluent in fluff and my other stuff had a lot more dying :D Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!


	2. Trouble With the Curve

A/N: Hey look! I'm not dead! While I enjoyed this chapter, it did challenge me a bit.

Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!

* * *

_Math_. The most certain thing in the world, numbers and truth and stability, no surprises other than the occasional quiz that he was always ready for. Was there anything better in the entire world than cold, constant reality?

_Science_. A tense hour, spent trying to keep Honeydew from blowing himself up. Lalna and Sjin and Rythian were there too, and they were just as unpredictable. Fire and chemicals and occasional blood and dead things. Science was terrifying.

_History_. The past triumphs and failures of millions and millions of relatable people, sixty minutes of true educational immersion. Unless, of course, Sips was feeling cheeky. Then it was an hour dodging spitballs and trying to ignore the whispered obscenities as he sent saucy texts to his boyfriend who should know better.

_English_. Xephos took English with Lomadia, his girlfriend. It was a comfort to sit beside her, a judgement free companion that he didn't have to babysit. She could take her own notes, make her own astute observations, and she left Xephos to do the same.

_Lunch_. Lunch was a mixed bag of disappointment and contentment. Had Honeydew saved him a seat or let Sjin, Lalna and Rythian crowd in ensuring that Xephos would spend the period with his knees up near his ears? Would Sips be there spitting obscenities or playing grabass with Sjin? There were far too many variables to consider to form a solid opinion one way or the other.

_Study Hall_. Free period? Hardly. Xephos sat in the same echoing cafeteria just after the last of the food had been cleared away and the whole place smelled of bleach and disturbed refuse. Textbooks stacked up before him, it was his best attempt at using his time wisely. Behind him, Ross, Trott and Smithy muttered through impromptu band rehearsal, Smithy and Trott humming bars while Ross tapped out the drumline on the table, each small sound digging into Xephos' shaking nerves. It was there he'd learned Sips wrote a good deal of the band's songs about Sjin, who was none the wiser. Smith thought it was queer. Trott found it endearing and Ross, being a drummer, just occasionally thought to wipe the drool away from his own chin. Study hall made Xephos very grumpy.

_Physical Education_. Horror of horrors, the terrible climax to Xephos' steadily worsening days. It wasn't that he was weak or terribly slow, but he was clumsy, gangly, a lot like a drunk ostrich, Honeydew had once commented. Xephos hated his inability to coordinate himself, especially when preppy Sjin and far-from-a-sixpack Lalna managed to pull it together long enough to avoid being laughed at. Despite his best efforts, Xephos was at most pitiably befuddled when it came to physical activity, especially in front of him.

Xephos' bottom hit the dirt hard enough to drag a surprised yelp out of the tall teen; when the sun was suddenly shaded from above, he glanced up to see his worst nightmare over him, that charming gapped smile aimed down at him, "Need a hand?"

Xephos took Ridge's hand and stood, trying to brush off the dirt and humiliation, "Thanks," he muttered.

Ridge slapped him on the back, "Don't worry about it. Sips is a crap shot, couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."

"I hit the broad side of his egg head!" Sips cried and several others snickered, "Come on Ridge are we playing or are we just gonna wait for the coach to stop peeking in the locker room long enough to yell at us?"

Xephos wrinkled his nose at the terrible joke, and Ridge stifled a laugh to look disapproving, "That's awful, Sips," he scolded, tossing the ball back into play.

"Sorry mom!"

Ridge smiled again at Xephos, "You know, I could give you some pointers some time after class. Your stance isn't wide enough. A weak arm like Sips' shouldn't be able to knock you down like that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Xephos said, walking to join Sjin and Lalna.

"Sorry about that," Sjin said, "He didn't mean to hit you. He's just showing off."

Lalna chuckled, "He really knocked you for a loop," he mused, "You alright? Any bruises?"

"Just my arse and my ego," Xephos said, "Tell me this class is almost over."

"Do you want to sit out? We're up on points anyway," Sjin said.

Xephos looked over where a game of basketball was still going on, the more physical students long since forgetting their nerdy classmates, "There's an actual score being kept? I thought the point was mere survival," Xephos said.

Ridge was staring at Xephos, dribbling toward the basket and looking rather proud of himself until he connected with the solid wall of Sips and it was his turn to go down. Sips grabbed the ball, "Thanks bitch!" he mocked, taking off in the opposite direction.

"Sips really should play a sport," Xephos said thoughtfully, "It might disperse some of his frustrations."

Sjin smiled, "Too many rules, or maybe he just wouldn't have enough to bitch about. There's also the band."

"And the fact that Sjin makes sure to keep his frustrations from getting 'pent up'," Lalna teased with a laugh.

Sjin blushed a bright red and Xephos ignored the comment, "It might not be too late for him to get a scholarship."

"Sips getting a scholarship," Lalna tittered, "To where? The steel mill? Stop you'll make me wet myself."

Now it was Sjin's turn to look disapproving, "Shut up Lalna."

Back in the game, Sips was doing his best to keep the ball under his control while Ridge committed foul after foul, emboldened by Xephos' presence and his competitive nature, "They're going to kill each other," Lalna said to change the subject.

When the whistle came, Xephos had never been so relieved to see the instructor, "Hit the showers!"

His heart soared and then sank; even more awful than basketball and busting his ass was the dreaded locker room shower. Xephos always drug his feet when heading back to the gymnasium, trying to make it to the locker room after the bulk of the roughhousing subsided. Today, Xephos decided simply to drive home in his gym clothes and shower there, alone.

However, when he pushed open the door to the locker room, there was silence. Lost in his thoughts, he'd taken longer than usual and had only arrived five minutes before the final bell. Pleasantly surprised, his plans changed, and he grabbed his painstakingly folded towel from his locker and walked to the showers. The water dripped eerily in the silence and Xephos found it comforting as he turned the knobs and warm water washed away the sweat and dirt he'd managed to pick up despite doing his damnedest to avoid any true exertion.

He let his guard down, relaxing fully as he let the white noise of the showers carry him away, making it that much more frightening when he heard the soft slap of bare feet on the wet tiles. Tensing, Xephos held his breath, hoping it was his imagination, "Looks like I'm not the only one running behind."

Xephos could have swallowed his tongue; he swore inwardly and glanced over to the boy beside him. Ridge grinned and turned on the adjoining shower, close enough that the water splashing off of his shoulders struck Xephos in the face. He turned to stare hard at the tile wall, Ridge's godlike form in his periphery, making his cheeks burn. Xephos rinsed the shampoo out of his hair with impressive speed, shut off the water and ducked out of the showers, towel around his waist.

Dressing as if he were fleeing a house on fire, Xephos rushed out of the gymnasium to his car in the student parking lot. He unlocked the door and a hand slammed against it. Xephos nearly went to his knees, crying out, "Did you forget you were giving me a ride?"

Xephos saw his friend and let himself breathe, licking his lips nervously, "N-no."

"Jesus, Xeph you look like you just saw a ghost. I'm not dead am I?" Honeydew asked, looking very concerned despite his joking.

"I'm fine," Xephos said, "Just lost in my thoughts."

Honeydew walked around and climbed into the passenger seat, "I'll tell you one thing, that lab certification thing we have coming up has me worried. I still don't know the difference in millimeter and milliliter. And I keep forgetting that damn golden rule."

"Don't eat anything?" Xephos offered, starting the car.

"That's the one! Why can't I remember that? Everytime I've eaten in the lab it's turned out badly, also that time with my tea in art class. They say paint thinner is a lot like cheap whiskey so I'd better become a rich man."

Xephos listened to Honeydew ramble and the tension of the day started easing out of his shoulders, letting him relax at least physically. Of course, each time his mind started to slow, he saw those eyes, that grin, those muscles with the little rivulets of water tumbling down like drops of summer rain, "Shit."

"What?" Honeydew asked.

Xephos blinked, unaware he'd spoken out loud until his friend's confused face forced the realization, "Oh! I'll probably have to check the tire when we stop. It feels like it's pulling to the right."

"Right," Honeydew said, "So did you hear about the dance on Saturday? Trott's band is playing."

Xephos made a face, "I think I'll pass."

"Lomadia was pretty hacked when you didn't take her to the last one," Honeydew warned, "She went with Nilesy. That little bugger is after your woman."

"After my woman?" Xephos laughed, "Lomadia knows I don't like dancing. Why would she want me to go and be miserable?"

Honeydew shrugged, "Don't ask me whys about girls. I don't understand anything about them. They scare the piss out of me!"

Xephos shook his head, "They're no different from us."

"Maybe to you," Honeydew said, "You and Lomadia have been a thing for years. You took the easy way out."

Xephos sighed. He didn't feel like any of his life was easy but Lomadia. This dance was going to complicate things if he didn't play it very carefully.

* * *

Tuesday was-as it stood-an under appreciated day, a reprieve from the bleary eyed horror of Mondays and not quite the middle of the week, not quite time to worry about weekend dances. Besides, Tuesday morning was when Xephos' Math class had ten minutes to solve a college level equation for extra credit. It was the best ten minutes of Xephos' entire week, quite possibly his entire life.

Ten minutes, no matter how elating, was generally short lived, and the remaining fifty minutes of Math class slipped by just as eagerly, leaving Xephos waiting in the hallway for his small friend to walk to the science lab. Honeydew was running late, and when Xephos felt a hand on his shoulder, he wished he'd left the other boy behind, "Morning, Xephos."

He spun around to see Ridge's maddening little smile, "Hello Ridge," he said, trying to hide any reaction in his voice.

The hand returned to his shoulder and Xephos' heart hammered a pleasant rhythm, sputtering to life like a charging battery, "I'm having a thing on Friday at my place, an intimate little party with a few friends. Would you be interested?"

Xephos' brain shut down at the word intimate and he had to shake himself back to the present when Ridge called his name, "Um... y-yes of course, that's fine," he stuttered, hoping that response made sense to whatever he'd been asked.

Ridge grinned and squeezed his shoulder, "See you Friday." He winked, and disappeared into the sea of their classmates.

Xephos' jaw dropped stupidly as a creeping horror descended over him. What had he just agreed to?

"You must have missed breakfast, all the flies your catching."

Xephos' mouth snapped shut audibly and he looked down at Honeydew, "You're late," Xephos growled, marching off.

"When am I not late?" Honeydew said, following his irritated friend, "Well someone's got sand in his vagina this morning."

Xephos grit his teeth although Honeydew's colorful expression was a fairly accurate match to his level of unamused irritation at Ridge's intrusion into his already awkward life.

"If you could have just been on time today my life would be so much easier!" he said, "You never think of anyone but yourself."

"Oh I'm sorry, you got a lot of other friends stored somewhere I don't know about? I got a lot of competition I need to worry over?" Honeydew muttered.

The words didn't hurt Xephos. They were absolutely true. Honeydew, while he could certainly test his patience, was the friend he could be truly honest with. If Xephos was smarter, he would have taken the opportunity to apologize, but he let the sullen silence fester between them, digging the smallests of rifts.

* * *

Xephos tried to make sense of his place in the hierarchy of things, where even Honeydew was more popular and yet somehow Ridge showed intrigue again and again. To top off the oddities, both of them had girlfriends, long-term even, and Xephos had seen Ridge and Nano together more than once since the morning's invitation. Was Ridge trying to acquire a pet brain, someone to write papers and fill out workbooks? Lalna sometimes dabbled in freelance, but Xephos would never risk his own grades or moral standing just for money-or under threat of physical harm. He was thinking exactly that when his body collided with someone else, "Watch it!"

Xephos knelt immediately and gathered up the books he'd knocked from her hands, "I'm terribly sorry I-oh, Nano. Here." He quickly handed her the books, his face red as several passers-by applauded his clumsiness.

"I realize your head is above cloud level but you could have trampled me," the very small-and terribly intimidating-girl snapped.

"Right," Xephos said, a customary submission in the presence of one of his social superiors, "Nano, I actually had a couple of questions that I wanted to ask about Ridge."

The cheerleader looked bored, but-to her credit-she indulged him, "What is it?"

Xephos shifted, fidgeting for a moment before gathering his thoughts-and courage-enough to speak, "Well Ridge invited me to... something, something on Friday."

"Are you sure? He was probably making fun of you and you misunderstood," Nano said as if she wasn't being a terrible person.

Xephos pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "He's been showing a lot of interest in me. I thought you might know if that was something he did often or if it's something I should worry about."

"Oh please," Nano said, "Ridge is not gay, but even if he was what makes you think he'd ever be interested in a power nerd that's taller than him and just about every other person in the world?"

Xephos felt the heat rise in his cheeks but he kept his composure, "I'm just trying to understand the situation."

Nano smiled, "Then understand this. Ridge is mine, not yours, and you'd better hurry and grab onto one of the other losers at school before they all pair up and you have nobody to take to the dance." With a flip of her hair, she was gone, practically skipping down the hall.

Xephos folded his arms, "I hate this place."

"Alright, Xephos?" Lomadia greeted as she passed Nano.

Xephos brightened, "I haven't seen you all day." A moment later, he lowered his arm around her shoulders.

"Well Nilesy almost blew up the chem lab helping Trott and Smithy and I had to stay behind and help. This is new. Losing your aversion to the dreaded public display of affection?" Lomadia mused.

"I just... want everyone to know we're dating," Xephos said.

"We know. That's what matters isn't it?"

Xephos paused, "I'm starting to believe that no that isn't all that matters. You remember what Lalna said about highschool being a political campaign? I think he's right."

"Oh Xephos don't get dragged into all of that nonsense. That's one of the best things about you, how you don't care," Lomadia said, "You're above all of that."

"About six inches above," Xephos muttered.

Lomadia smiled, "I thought only girls were embarrassed about being tall," she teased.

"I thought only girls got so much flack about it," Xephos said, "But I seem to have a big tall target on my back today."

"I think a tall man is very attractive," Lomadia said, "They can always reach the high shelf."

Xephos snorted, unable to keep from smiling. Lomadia always knew what to say somehow, or he was just so used to her prose that it was always a comfort.

* * *

_Dodgeball_.

Xephos almost turned and ran from the locker room when he saw it on the dingy chalkboard. He was perched on the too-short benches with the rest of the class, his knees almost parallel with his slumping soldiers. Beside him, Lalna paled at the news and two of their larger classmates-Kyrin and Bebop-gave him twin predatory grins.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he whispered.

Ridge was staring at Xephos again and the lanky teen did his best not to notice, his face flushing red from his shoulders to his forehead, his ears burning. The coach called the two team captains, Ridge and Sips, and teams were chosen. Xephos sighed, settling in for the long ritual of being called last, forced upon the more unfortunate team like a ship's anchor. Ridge was first, and when he called Xephos' name, he was ninety percent sure that he had hallucinated it. He looked up and blinked dumbly, jumping up when Sjin nudged him and walking to stand next to Ridge, trying to ignore the snickering, "Is this a charity tournament?" Kyrin called, and he and Bebop dissolved into laughter.

The coach looked bored already and he walked off to his office, "I can sit out," Xephos muttered.

Ridge shook his head, "You just need to connect with your inner predator. It's not hard."

Sips chose Sjin, and the rest of the choosing was fairly uninteresting, down to Lalna being picked last, pawned off to Sips who suppressed a groan for Sjin's benefit as they filed out of the locker room to the gymnasium. A class of girls were sitting on the bleachers, and a few cat called. Xephos noticed Lomadia a few levels above the others reading a book as rain pounded the building's thick tin roof. Could things get any worse?

"I'm in hell," Lalna said, dragging his feet.

Sjin tried to be sympathetic, "Maybe it won't be so bad. Those two wouldn't kill you in front of so many witnesses, right?"

"They paid me to write their term papers in English and I copied the same one twice... from the internet."

"Yep, you're dead," Sjin said, "I'll make sure they have a closed casket funeral so your mother won't have to see your lack of face."

"You're a good friend, Sjin," Lalna muttered.

Sjin chuckled and they left Xephos when the teams split, taking their places. Lomadia lifted her gaze in realization and gave Xephos a greeting nod, going back to her book when he returned it with a small wave just before Ridge's hand came down on his shoulder, "Xephos I think you should stand with me," he said cheerily, "I can help protect you."

"I would argue but if you don't I'll probably manage to hit myself with the ball," Xephos resigned.

"You'll be fine," Ridge said, and his smile would have comforted Xephos if it hadn't made his stomach flip.

The game started with a nod from each team's captain, and Ridge kept his promise, nudging Xephos out of the way and catching the throws that came too straight on. Each time he touched Xephos, the lanky teen blushed or stammered or nearly fell down, but confidence is an amazing equalizer, and Xephos' body seemed to thrive in the surety. When Ridge handed him a ball, he stared at it for a moment, "Throw it," Ridge said.

"I can't," Xephos replied, but his tone changed quickly when the next touch came.

Ridge's hand was on his back, moving lower at an insistent pace, and the world went red for a moment in the heat of Xephos' little meltdown. Something animal bubbled up to the surface and before he knew it, the ball had left his hands with impressive force and accuracy. He didn't even know he'd thrown it until he heard the resounding smack, the heavy thud and the surprised cry. When the world came back into focus, Lalna was on the gym floor, the entire left side of his face red like a seeded bruise. The colors told a story and Xephos gasped with the realization of it. He had done that, eyes open and jaw clenched and nose wrinkled with some foreign aggression. That was all gone now, nothing but shock and regret in its wake and the echoing hysterics of Bebop and Kyrin as they laughed and whooped behind Xephos.

"Are you alright?" Ridge asked.

Xephos realized his hand was still in place and he blushed deeply, "I'm fine."

"That's a foul!" Sips called, "I'm bringing a guy back in."

"Oh fine Sips have it your way," Ridge said, grinning, "Your team benefits either way from the loss of dead weight."

The rest of Lalna's face was going red as he sat on the bleachers, ignoring the muttered disappointment of his teammates. Xephos caught Sips' eyes and the gray boy smirked, pointing right at him, giving an ominous wink. There was no time to react as he launched the ball, and Ridge shoved him quickly aside, taking the ball in his middle and grunting as it knocked the wind out of him. Ridge was shorter than Xephos, and that made it obvious exactly where Sips had been aiming, "Too bad, Silk Shirt," he said, "I'm pretty sure nutting you with a dodgeball would have gotten me the win."

Ridge stalked forward but a whistle blow interrupted the fight before it could begin; it was the girls' gym teacher, "Break it up!" she called down from the bleachers, "Laps, or I get the coach!"

Ridge and Sips stared each other down for a moment before Ridge backed away and started his jog around the gym, leaving Sips to call after him, "Pussy!"

Another whistle blow, "Sips!"

"Ok!" Sips snapped, running after Ridge.

Sjin gave Xephos a look and then took off as well, the rest of the class following suit. Xephos hated running almost as much as he hated dodgeball, but he did need the time to think, to try and gather his composure after his very confusing encounters with Ridge. He managed to sink deep enough into thought that he barely heard the whistle, stopping only when he saw his classmates shuffling out of the gym.

Spying Lomadia gathering equipment, he jogged over, "Need any help?"

"Help? No, but I won't say no to company," she said, handing him the large bag of dodgeballs, "Dodgeball huh?"

"I think it's a game the coach schedules when he is ready for a few of us to die off," Xephos said.

Lomadia smiled as she knelt to roll up the volleyball net, "I think you're right. I saw Lalna's face. Did you see who did it?"

There was a sharp silence, a pointed pause, and Xephos shook his head, "I'm afraid I didn't."

"Your class is a bunch of animals, Xeph," she said hoisting the heavy net and walking to the supply closet, "Its a wonder you're alive."

Xephos followed, "I guess so," he said, "Perhaps I'm just lucky."

Lomadia patted his shoulder, "Thanks for your help. You'd better get out of here if you want to make it before the bell."

"I'm not sure I do, but you're right," Xephos said, reaching up and squeezing her hand before leaving the gym.

By the time he reached the locker room, Sjin and Lalna were out of the shower, and the entire side of Lalna's face was purpling. Xephos settled on the bench and shoved his street clothes into his backpack, preparing to leave

"What's the matter, Xephos?" Sips asked, walking up to them completely naked and far too comfortable, "You some kind of soap dodger?"

Xephos crossed his arms, "I'll have you know that I shower at home!" he defended, trying to ignore how pathetic he sounded.

"Back off," Ridge said, walking past Sips toward the showers, "Are we gonna stand around and flirt or are we gonna soap race?"

"Soap race?" Sjin asked.

Sips looked fairly proud of himself, "We soap up our asses and see who can scoot across the floor faster," Sips said, following after Ridge.

Lalna and Sjin exchanged glances, but Sjin rolled his eyes and dressed without a word, "See you tomorrow," he said, shouldering his backpack and heading out.

"Doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what's going to happen if they hit a crack in the floor," Lalna said bitterly shaking the water out of his hair, "The more of them that sterilize themselves the better for the universal gene pool."

"Not going to stick around for the howls of pain?" Xephos asked with a smile.

Lalna gave him a look that he couldn't immediately interpret and didn't reply, leaving Xephos alone and puzzled when he slammed his locker and left, his footfalls echoing over the muffled laughter from the showers. Sighing, he rose and gathered his things, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and trying to ignore his own smell of sweat. He considered borrowing a towel for his car seat. It would bring him dangerously close to the overcrowded showers, close to Ridge. Gathering his courage, he crept as silently as possible to the stack of towels, grabbing one and then bolting away, jumping over the long puddles that ran from the showers and bursting through the exit door. Outside, the cold bit into his bare legs and burned in his lungs but he didn't lose his pace until he reached his car. Tossing the towel down over the seat, he climbed in and closed the door behind him, struggling to catch his breath.

By the time he could breathe normally again, the windows were fogged up and he turned the engine over, directing the heat to defrost. It had been ten minutes since the last bell, and no sign of Honeydew, so Xephos put his car into drive and backed up-as calmly as he could muster.

A glance in his rear view mirror cause him to freeze as he saw Ridge waving to him, walking his way. Biting his lip, Xephos hit the gas a little too hard and sped from the parking lot, not breathing until he'd pulled onto the main road, another daring escape.

* * *

The locker room showers were somehow cleaner and brighter than he remembered them ever being. Steam filled the space and it had Xephos' hair plastered to his forehead before he ever stepped under the water. It was quiet, even the water seemed soundless and his own breathing was a deafening chorus of inhale, exhale. The water was hot and Xephos' pale skin went pleasantly pink beneath it. There was a hand then, on his shoulder, sloping down his back, lower until Xephos spun around and looked into those familiar eyes, lost in them like a mouse in the stare of a snake.

"You ran off awful suddenly yesterday," Ridge said.

Xephos blinked, "What day is it?"

Ridge leaned in and they were almost touching, Ridge's breath tickled his ear when he spoke, "Xephos."

Xephos wanted to run away, to scold Ridge or at least spontaneously combust, but what he did was nothing, and what they did was kiss.

"Say it again," Xephos muttered into the kiss.

Ridge smiled, "Xephos," he purred.

_Again, again, again._

Xephos uttered the word like a heartbeat, begging it over and over until he awoke with it dying on his lips, looking up at his ceiling fan. He jerked out of bed as if he'd been bitten, staring down at it accusingly. Untangling his sheets, Xephos had made his bed completely before he realized it was still the middle of the night, "Bollocks."

Crawling back in bed, Xephos squeezed his eyes closed hard enough to see spots, but the image of Ridge couldn't be willed away. As he dozed off, he tried to make himself think of Lomadia instead, something familiar and nonthreatening that didn't cause all of those uncomfortable reactions. He slipped into darkness, and another dream emerged.

It seemed innocuous enough, his kitchen with a pleasant morning light filtering through the pale curtains that billowed slightly with a gentle breeze. It smelled like magnolias, and sweat, and there was breathing in his ear, hands on his hips, and he wasn't wearing anything. He could feel Ridge, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as teeth grazed his shoulder.

Xephos shot out of bed and practically ran to the bathroom, shedding his pajamas haphazardly on his way to the shower. He turned on the cold water and let out a little cry of surprise when it first hit him, taking his breath away, but his desperation kept him under the flow until his entire body was shivering in protest.

After drying off and dressing for the day, he spent the rest of the night scowling at infomercials on his small television, forcing himself to stay awake until he heard his parents stirring and the jangling of their cheap clock alarm. They were blessedly unaware of his odd hours, and he managed to choke down a substantial enough breakfast to keep his mother from commenting before he left for school.

* * *

The day's normal distractions seemed blessedly absent during his first classes, even Lalna was mercifully quiet and Xephos took it all as a sign that things were looking up, that perhaps his luck was turning or fate had finally grown bored of torturing him. When he arrived at the lunchroom, however, his theory was unceremoniously torn to pieces. Honeydew was absent, odd for him, but the other three sat in casual conversation that darkened quickly when Xephos joined them. Sjin looked uncomfortable; Lalna's face was a mess of bruises-or more accurately, one very large bruise from chin to left eyebrow-and Rythian fixed Xephos with a disapproving stare.

"Hello friends," Xephos said, sitting and trying to pretend he didn't feel suddenly out of place, "Where's Honeydew?"

"He said he was finding another table," Rythian said, "Something about an 'inconsiderate gobshite' making this one uninhabitable."

Xephos' eyebrow twitched in annoyance at Rythian's words but he kept quiet, "I'll just try to find him later," he dismissed.

"Just so you know," Lalna said, surprising Xephos with his suddenly broken silence and deceptively cheery smile, "Ridge asked for your number and I gave it to him."

Xephos' jaw dropped, "You know I don't want him to have it!" he protested.

Lalna didn't stop smiling, "Oops, I thought that was someone else."

Next to Lalna, Rythian hid his smile behind his hand and Sjin just looked increasingly uncomfortable, "You're an ass," Xephos said.

"I'm sorry Xephos I guess the head trauma made me forget all of your little orders," Lalna snapped, standing, "I'm tired of catering to this stupid game between you and Ridge anyway. Just fuck or get over it!"

Lalna stormed off with Rythian on his heels, "Sorry," Sjin said, "He's upset."

"I hadn't noticed," Xephos muttered.

"You did hit him pretty hard in the face."

Xephos folded his arms, "I wish it had been an accident. I don't know what came over me. It was..."

"Ridge?" Sjin offered.

"Life would be easier if he would just leave me alone," Xephos said.

Sjin scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Well, have you told him that?"

Xephos shook his head, "No, I just don't know if that's really... really what I want to say."

Sjin smiled a knowing smile that made Xephos scowl, "Maybe you like him, like the attention."

"No, I... No," Xephos said. He'd always been so practical, and even good attention was generally more trouble than it was worth.

"Either way, there's a party at Ridge's house the night before the dance. You could come with me and maybe see what he's like outside of school."

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Xephos cried, "That's what I accidentally agreed to!"

"Accidentally?" Sjin asked.

Xephos slammed his head on the table lightly, closing his eyes, "Ridge stopped me in the hallway and asked me a question and I just drifted off mid-conversation-which I never do-and then I just said yes when I figured out he'd asked me a question and he said he'd see me Friday. Why do I do this to myself?"

Sjin chuckled, "This is all pretty cute, not at all what I'd expect from you, Xephos."

To preserve his own sanity, Xephos ignored that, "Will anyone else we know be there?"

"Other than Sips? No way. In fact if any of our friends tried to set foot on that property I think there's a sniper on duty," Sjin said.

"Why are you allowed then?"

They both paused and said in unison, "Money."

"Right," Xephos muttered, "So please say we can go together. I'm terrified as it is."

Sjin nodded, "I'll just make sure Sips is still going so I won't be lonely while you're off entertaining Ridge."

Xephos blushed, "It's not like that. We're not even friends," he said, "Please don't tell anybody."

"Mum's the word," Sjin agreed, miming a zipper across his lips as Honeydew walked by.

"Hullo friend," Xephos greeted.

"Sjin," Honeydew muttered, continuing past the table without even a glance at Xephos.

Sjin saw Xephos' expression, "He's probably just in a hurry," he said.

"Right," Xephos muttered, standing up, "Well I guess I should be going too. I wouldn't want to miss Study Hall."

"Isn't it right on the other side of the cafeteria?" Sjin asked.

Xephos paused, "I... have to mentally prepare myself. It's the table drumming. I just can't."

Sjin blinked, "Of course," he said, but his expression was still puzzled.

* * *

School, sleep, rinse, repeat, Xephos sleepwalked through the rest of the cursed week with no one but Sjin to keep him company. Wednesday's loneliness gave way to Thursday's resentment and finally Friday's unease, waiting like a death row inmate for the final bell. He found himself wondering if it was just some absurd form of young love and his denial thereof. Did Ridge's quick wit and flashing eyes-and strong hands-take more control than Xephos was willing to give? Was he just too stubborn to admit physical attraction? Afraid to be gay? It seemed like all of those things and none of them at the same time, no solid theory, no definitive science to explain away his attractions and his hesitations. There was nothing he could say to stop Sjin's knowing looks, Ridge's little smiles at gym class, Lomadia's curiosity about his recent lack of presence or Honeydew's anger over the erratic behavior that had led to their parting of ways. Xephos only knew enough to know that he wanted the answers, and the party was a decent enough place to find them-good or bad.

Ridge's home wasn't enormous, as Xephos had half-expected. He didn't usually think of money in a social way, his family more middle-of-the-road than most in the small town. The haves, Sjin and Nano and-surprisingly-Ross, threw gifts and loans and designer labels around like dandruff, snowing their own riches down on the have-nots-Sips, Smithy, Trott, Honeydew, the teenagers that not only kept careful count of their own pocket money, but often had to decide if an extra slice of pizza at lunch meant less gas in the tank, less food for a sibling or the inability of their parents to pay the late fee on a utility bill. Fortunate were the families who had no connection with the manufactured lifeblood of the town-whether riding the crest of its profits or slaving in its greasy trenches-for they alone had control over their own place in society.

The house was immaculate, cleaned down to the last carpet fiber in a way that told of a stay-at-home mom or a maid with actual workplace pride. The basement where they were ushered had eighties-style panelling made mostly of sawdust and spit, stamped with fake woodgrain that did little for its value and indoor/outdoor carpet that felt more like a cat's tongue than a floor treatment. Ridge's father gave them a lecture about personal responsibility that translated to a warning against opening his liquor cabinet or leaving bodily fluids anywhere in the house. It was awkward, but he did have the decency to leave the house with one last meaningful look at his son, and then a facade seemed to lift.

Ridge and his cohorts went upstairs and returned with beer-the smell alone turned Xephos' stomach-and a bottle of gin. Xephos humored Ridge with a swallow of gin, but he felt like he'd drank mouthwash, and refused the bottle the second time it was offered. Things were fairly rowdy, but Sips was quiet, a rare enough occurrence for Xephos to take note of. There was no teasing, no blustering, no strutting, just timely chuckles and muttered jokes to Sjin. It seemed Ridge simply kept Sips around to prove a point, that he wasn't intimidated by him, but when push came to shove, Sips knew his place. Sjin, on the other hand, was already half drunk by the time Xephos was refusing the second offer of gin. It seemed that either Sips and Sjin had a previous agreement, or that Sips was smart enough to notice Sjin's drinking and stay sober himself.

Before things could get very out of hand, Ridge tapped Xephos on the shoulder and jerked his head toward the stairs. Xephos hesitated at first, but stood and followed him away from the rising noise. Ridge led him through the main level of the house, painted a pleasant light blue with eggshell trim and dark wood furniture, punctuated by the hideous ever-present 'dad chair' in the far corner of the open plan living room. This wasn't their destination, however, and Xephos followed Ridge down the hallway and into his bedroom. It wasn't decorated in a conventional sense, scattered with trophies and accomplishments framed and polished by doting adults, but Ridge's true personality stayed tucked down in the basement where company wouldn't see. Ridge seemed suddenly domestic, the overachiever with pressuring parents and no real life of his own-save for the friends and the parties and the adoration of very nearly everyone at school, student and faculty.

When he spoke however, Xephos temporary solace vanished, "Sorry about the dodgeball thing."

"You did it on purpose," Xephos said before he could stop himself.

Ridge shrugged, "Better you hit him than Bebop or Kyrin. I did him a favor."

Xephos crossed to the bedroom window, giving himself something to focus on, "Lalna certainly doesn't think so."

"Who cares what other people think?" Ridge asked, settling his hands on Xephos' shoulders and guiding him around, cupping his chin.

Xephos' eyes locked instantly on Ridge's lips, "I didn't always," he said, barely above a whisper.

Ridge kissed him, and a jolt passed from his lips through Xephos' body like ball lightning, dragging out a sigh that was caught between bewilderment and relief. Either way, Ridge took it as an invitation, and pushed him against the wall, hands roaming up his shirt as their kiss deepened. Xephos pushed them away gently, "I can't," he panted when Ridge let him breathe.

"We both know you want me," Ridge said, pulling Xephos forward again into another kiss.

The arrogance in his voice made it easier when Xephos pushed him away with both hands, hurrying out of the room. Downstairs, everyone was still arranged on the long black sectional couch, "Need a ride, Sips," Xephos muttered on his way to the door.

Sips rolled his eyes, "Come on, Sjin."

"I'll sit this one out," Sjin slurred.

Sips stood and pulled Sjin to his feet, catching the taller boy when he fell. By the time Sips got out of the house with Sjin, he was carrying him. Sjin was passed out, snoring softly over Sips' wave of muttered obscenity.

Sips arranged his boyfriend in the back seat carefully, then moved to the driver's seat, climbing in and reaching over to unlock the passenger door where Xephos stood with his arms crossed. "You know please is still a word."

Xephos climbed in, "I know more words than you ever will."

Sips chuckled and drove away from the curb, "Do I need to drop you off at the crisis center?"

"Just shut up, Sips," Xephos said, staring hard out the window with embarrassed tears burning behind his eyes.

"Whoa seriously," Sips said, pressing the brake, "Did he hurt you?"

Xephos covered his face with his hands, "No," he said miserably as the car started moving again, "I'm just humiliated and I would like very much to go home."

"You know, Silk Shirt," Sips said, fumbling one-handed for a cigarette, "If you weren't so damn awkward you might have a good time at these parties."

Xephos ignored Sips' maddening nickname and reached over to take his lighter, "You're going to kill us," he said, flicking the lighter.

Sips looked down his nose at the flame and smirked, "Thanks."

Xephos dropped the lighter in the middle console and watched Sips' face, lit by the red cherry of his cigarette, "If you weren't such a hooligan your company might be bearable."

"You're tugging my fucking heart strings," Sips mused.

Xephos coughed as the cigarette smoke began to fill the car more noticeably, "Do these windows not work?"

"Nope," Sips said, "But the smoke usually finds it's way out of the hole in the floor back there."

"Brilliant."

Sips cleared his throat, "So are you gay? Gay for Ridge, I mean."

"What does that even mean?" Xephos snapped.

"Well you got a girlfriend and yet you let Ridge take you up to his bedroom. He doesn't exactly host tea parties up there," Sips said, "Open the ashtray."

Xephos reached over and flipped open the compartment, wiping the soot off of of his hand onto his jeans, "I don't want to hear about what he does up there. I'm not gay for Ridge."

Sips flicked his ashes at the ashtray, a halfhearted gesture that mostly sent them wafting through the air and Xephos' brow furrowed at the lack of care, "Then what the hell are you doing?" Sips asked, stopping the car again and looking up at Xephos, "I haven't seen you with your little ginger friend or the geek squad for two days, just Sjin, and Sjin is used to a whole other level of selfish so he doesn't count. Ridge ain't a nice guy. Better you go in knowing than to have to find out the hard way. You'd better get your priorities in order before you lose your friends for good."

Xephos' cheeks burned but there was truth in what Sips was saying, "I've been an ass."

"From one ass to another, yes you have," Sips said, "And even though you don't want anyone to know, you seem to like having friends, so a little effort might be worth it."

"Thank you, Sips," Xephos said, "You're a good friend."

"Jesus Xephos I know you're gay now and all but I'm dating Sjin so get your hand out of my pants."

Xephos rolled his eyes, "How about you're a shitty friend, but you're halfway decent for an asshole?"

"That's better."

"Is he going to be alright?" Xephos asked, looking back at Sjin.

Sips chuckled, "He's on his side, and it won't be the first time he puked in my car, probably not the last either. He can't hold his liquor for shit."

* * *

The next morning, Lomadia had called him five times. She was angry, had to be. He'd never mentioned the dance to her and she had been waiting. Would she already be going with Nilesy? Xephos groaned and sat up, dialing his phone.

"You're finally up."

"Hello Lomadia. I slept in later than I intended. I've been meaning to ask, would you go to the dance with me tonight?"

She was quiet, surprised. Xephos liked that. "Sure," she said, sounding happier than she likely meant to, "Pick me up at six?"

"I will be there," Xephos said, hanging up and sighing when his phone buzzed this time with a text message. He opened it.

_**See you at the dance? I can't wait. -R**_

Xephos rolled his eyes and tossed his phone onto his bed, hurrying to shower and trying not to think about gym class.

He spent longer than he should have picking his clothes, trying to find something masculine enough to make a point to Ridge without making Lomadia laugh at him again. The last thing he needed was to draw more questions from her. Ridge had managed to complicate even his relationship with Lomadia, and that above all strengthened his resolve to put an end to the game.

By the time he had settled on a button down shirt and a nicer pair of jeans, it was nearly six. Xephos hurried across town to Lomadia's home. It sat near the top of a hill, flanked by willow trees that made breezes more beautiful in the day, sinister at night. As he parked outside, Xephos was struck by memories of the summer they'd spent every night under the trees after an owl had established a nest and raised three owlets in a high hole. They would arrive before sunset and lay in silence waiting for the birds to stir, holding hands back before Xephos had become so uncomfortable in his own skin, and when Lomadia was a vibrant, giggling girl lacking the wisdom and strength she had developed in their early teens; it was before Ridge and before Nilesy. It was probably those silent evenings that had made their relationship what it was now, familiarity and affectionate in its lack of verbiage.

Xephos took in the scent of clean, cold air, the smell of approaching snow as he walked to her door, knocking lightly. When Lomadia came to the door, she was stunning, beautiful even bundled up against the cold, and Xephos couldn't form words eloquent enough not to somehow lessen her flawless profundity, and so he settled for a smile.

"You clean up well," she mused, stepping past him and brushing her hand over his shoulder as she did.

He followed her like a puppy, opening the door for her and jogging around the car. It wasn't often that he caught himself staring at her, but this evening there was something divine about her, something that tugged at his heart with such insistence that he knew he loved her more with every word that went unspoken between them, every quick glance and ghosting touch, every quirk of her lips and arch of her eyebrow.

As well as he knew her, she knew him a thousand times better, no rock unturned, and he might as well have held every bad feeling out on a sign, but his heart felt incredibly light, and it kept any questions at bay on the ride to school, allowing for more pleasant remarks.

"Don't forget to chain your tires before the snow," she said, "Sometime tomorrow afternoon, they're saying."

Xephos nodded, "I won't."

"And thank you, for this," she added, "I know you hate this sort of thing."

"I do," Xephos admitted, "But you make it easier."

Lomadia glanced at him with a pleased smile, then turned her eyes back out the window, watching the buildings roll by, quiet especially for a Saturday night-and the fact that the highschool was the only building with lights on up and down the entire street made the small town vibe inescapable.

* * *

School wasn't usually a terrifying place, but dimly lit and dressed up with colored lights and a disco ball, it became just that. Lomadia's hand found his and warmth spread up his arm into his heart. He followed her further in, returning a small wave to Sjin and frowning as Lomadia dropped his hand when she spotted Nilesy. Sjin walked over just as Lomadia disappeared, "She's off already," he mused.

"She was sort of my last line of defense," Xephos admitted, "I didn't expect Nilesy to be here."

"She loves you," Sjin assured him.

Xephos blinked, "I know that. Why wouldn't I know that?"

Sjin cleared his throat, adjusting his collar, "You should tell Ridge if you're not interested," he said, "I heard about the party. He shouldn't make you uncomfortable."

"That's all he's ever done," Xephos said, and it was at least partially true.

"Well let's just enjoy ourselves and if he makes a move you can tell him off. I'll have your back," Sjin said, but his attention wavered when the band started another song, "This one's my favorite! Do you want to-oh, no I suppose you wouldn't."

Xephos sighed as Sjin blushed, "I'm not dancing. Just go."

Sjin ran over to where a group of their friends had formed in support of the band Shat-a name that Xephos found particularly appropriate as the band's four members were usually very tiresome. Swallowing his pride, Xephos walked over to Honeydew, touching his shoulder. Honeydew turned and lit up, as if forgetting he was supposed to be angry; his smile fell but he allowed Xephos to lead him aside where it was quieter, "Talking to the little folk now?"

Xephos let that one slide. He deserved it, deserved a lot, "I'm sorry I was an ass," he said, "I truly am. I deserve anything you have to say, but I hope at the end of it we can be friends again."

"You were a right pillock," Honeydew agreed, then he smiled, "But Lalna and Rythian bore the piss out of me, truth be told, and I failed the damn lab test because they wouldn't let me cheat off of them."

Xephos snorted and patted Honeydew on the shoulder, "It's good to be back friend."

"Don't get too comfortable," Honeydew said, "It's only until I get my own car."

"Of course," Xephos said with a smile.

"Mind if I interrupt?"

Xephos shivered and turned around to see Ridge standing there, far too close, imposing and handsome and he smelled so fucking _wonderful_. Xephos opened his mouth to speak, but his small friend interrupted, "Get out of here you bloody fop," he growled, "Xephos may not have the stones to say it to your face but I do. He's not interested!"

Ridge regarded the shorter teen for a split second, about to retort when a soft chanting of 'fop' started behind him. He spun on his heels to see Lalna and Rythian-soon joined by the rest of their friends-laughing at him the way he'd never experience before. Each of them had been wedgied or swirlied by Ridge or one of his friends, and by the time the chanting reached a sizable volume, even Trott was joining in. Ridge blushed deep crimson and marched out of the building, pausing long enough to give Honeydew one last threatening look.

Nano passed them as she followed behind her boyfriend, "You know most of them aren't even smart enough to know what a fop is right?"

"You're pretty," Honeydew said bravely.

She gave him a look that was somewhere between surprise and disapproval, and took off after her distraught boyfriend. Xephos smiled despite himself, "That might have been a bit harsh... but thank you."

"I just told a girl she was pretty," Honeydew said, "To her face."

"That you did, probably the meanest, most popular girl in our entire school district, too, right after you told off her boyfriend."

Honeydew sighed, "Right, that too," he said, "I guess we all kind of did."

"Well we'd better ride this wave while we can because we're all getting our asses kicked on Monday," Lalna said, walking up and throwing his arm around Xephos' shoulders, his eye still black.

"No regrets," Rythian added.

Xephos glanced to where Lomadia and Nilesy stood, already settled back into conversation after the previous display-Lomadia had never put much stock into the pissing contests of boys, no matter how interesting, and Nilesy was always eager to fall over himself to impress her with his own disinterest. When she wasn't looking, Nilesy moved closer and the look of longing desperation on his face made Xephos' cheeks burn. Honeydew's words echoed in his memory, and all of the awkward pauses when his friends brought up Nilesy suddenly made painful sense.

Nilesy leaned in and touched Lomadia's face and she waved it off, still so unaware, and the little bespectacled shark circled still. He could hear his friends talking somewhere in the back of his mind, feel Honeydew's hand on his arm, "Xephos? You alright?"

"No regrets," he muttered before walking over to the pair and grabbing Nilesy by the collar of his shirt. Xephos wasn't particularly strong, but he was angry, indignant, and the height difference was so significant that Nilesy was hauled into the air, his feet searching for purchase on the floor that he was dangling above. Xephos' blue eyes were beyond intimidating, almost glowing with anger, and his voice was eerily calm when he spoke, "Stop it."

Nilesy's expression made it obvious that he understood, and his face turned almost purple in a blush of fearful humiliation.

"Xephos!" Lomadia said harshly, and he spun to face her, "Take me home, now."

Her face held it's usual power over him and he dropped Nilesy to the floor, following her out of the building and everyone was left staring at Nilesy as he picked himself up off of the floor and adjusted his glasses. Lomadia was already halfway to the car, her steps quick and angry but Xephos' long legs matched her pace easily. He was smart enough to remain silent as he opened the door for her and she sat, folding her arms and looking straight ahead.

Xephos slid into the car and started it, glancing at her and pulling away from the school. The drive home was quiet, but not in the way Xephos usually enjoyed; it was awkward and heavy instead of warm and comfortable, so much so that when he pulled into Lomadia's driveway he expected her to leave without a word, but she turned to him instead, "I don't know what in the world has gotten into you this week," she said, "The falling out with your friends and being worried about what everyone thinks, having some weird fight with Ridge and some very upsetting things that Nano insinuated in gym class-"

"Lomadia-"

She cut him off with a kiss, a real kiss, and the same warmth bloomed in his stomach as it had for Ridge, chills chasing each other up and down his spine. She pulled away and looked into his eyes for a moment, "Idiot," she said, climbing out of his car and walking inside.

Xephos watched her go, and once she was inside, a grin spread across his face and he actually chuckled to himself, driving away down the street.


	3. Dubstep

A/N: Chapter 3 time! I got some nice feedback for Chapter 2-which should have been in two parts really but I digress.

Warnings: Mild gore/violence, swearing, abuse

For the person who asked about sympathy for Ridge, I do have some sympathy. Teenage life is rarely fair, but that's mob rule for you. Ridge can be a bit of a villain as well. We certainly haven't seen the last of him.

Thanks for reading, everybody!

* * *

The thunderous backfire shook loose the stubborn early morning silence of the highschool's parking lot, turning dozens of heads as Lalna climbed out with a grin, walking around to open the busted passenger side door for Rythian, "I think it's getting louder."

"Maybe soon it'll explode and you can get a new car," Rythian said, shouldering his backpack, "Did you have breakfast?"

Lalna waved off the question, "I have to meet Bebop before first bell. I'm only two hundred dollars away from that centrifuge."

"You really think your parents will let you get another one after-"

"That's why I'm having it sent to your place," Lalna mused, "See you second period! Wish me luck!"

Rythian shook his head with a smile as Lalna trotted off, "I always do," he said to himself.

"Always do what?"

Rythian jumped and laughed nervously when he saw Sjin and his boyfriend, "Morning Sjin, I was just talking about Lalna... to myself. I'm not crazy."

Sjin smiled, as sunny and chipper as Lalna in the early morning, "Of course not," he chuckled.

"Good morning, Sips," Rythian greeted more out of obligatory politeness than actual interest. Sips gave him a particularly nasty look from one bloodshot eye and continued past them, "Ok never mind."

"He's cranky in the mornings," Sjin dismissed, "He was up all night with Smithy working on music. Did you have breakfast?"

Rythian perked up and smiled, "I was about to."

"Perfect timing then!" Sjin said, "I'm buying!"

"You don't have to do that," Rythian said.

Sjin waved him off, "Nonsense, you'll get the next one," he said cheerily, taking Rythian's arm and leading him off to the cafeteria.

* * *

Lalna had a way with his hands, like his words, that brought something out of Rythian, a beast that never stirred unprovoked. His passion was like a flower, budding but never blooming until Lalna coaxed it into the open. It was an emotional intimacy that Rythian couldn't help and Lalna couldn't understand, their backgrounds stark in their differences despite their longstanding friendship.

They were on Lalna's expensive leather couch, a gaudy mauve beast that matched too well with the area rug and had a reputation for being uncomfortable. Rythian arched his back, growling quietly when his skin peeled painfully away from the leather beneath him. He parted his lips to complain, but that only created opportunity, and soon he was sucking on Lalna's tongue, flat on the couch again and forgetting about the previous annoyance. They did this often, rolling around with their mouths locked in some hormonal joust, Rythian's heart too often getting in the way, but Lalna always found a way to play it off, sleep deprivation, stress and sometimes-worst of all-an experiment. Lalna rolled his hips downward, grinding against Rythian at a slow, subconscious pace and Rythian hooked his legs around the boy above him, letting out a strangled cry as his body screamed for more. Lalna paused as if the sound had brought him back to reality and he sat up, untangling himself from Rythian's legs, "Parents will be home soon," he muttered, avoiding eye contact as he jogged upstairs to his bedroom.

Rythian stayed there, staring at the ceiling for a brief eternity, feeling guilty and bitter and giddy and very very horny until he remembered it wouldn't be appropriate for Lalna's parents to find him on their living room couch with a bulge in his pants, so he forced his arms and legs to work, pushing himself into a shaky stand and leaving through the back door.

Crossing Lalna's backyard to the fence, he carefully climbed over into his own yard and up to his bedroom window. His home was empty, and would be until dinner when his parents would rush home with takeout and try not to look too tired when they asked Rythian about his day. His parents both worked twelve hour days, but always did what they could to make sure he was comfortable. Rythian might even have been spoiled if he'd ever decided to ask for more than the occasional book.

His parents arrived home like clockwork. Dinner was eaten; days were recapped and pleasantries exchanged. It was casual and warm, nurturing enough without suffocating, and when Rythian returned to his room to prepare for bed, his parents were already asleep on the couch, half way through a documentary on the Cold War. Rythian glanced out his window to see if Lalna was awake, but the house was dark, so Rythian went to bed, dozing off faster than he expected. His phone buzzed loudly on his bedside table and he grabbed for it clumsily, already half asleep.

_I have something I want to try in the lab tomorrow after school._

Rythian grinned and shot back a quick response before rolling over to face the window, Lalna's treehouse a silhouette in the moonlight as he fell asleep.

* * *

Science was something that had brought them together, and it was like religion to Lalna-or the closest thing there was with him. He was his most beautiful when he was handling dangerous things, tinkering with wires and cogs, mixing chemicals and scribbling erratic notes; Rythian found that Lalna irresistible, and it was what always made him fall a little too close to love when their relationship was supposed to be scientific, mechanical, predictable-correlation always equalling causation. It was what made him stay despite Lalna's unpredictability and apathy.

Rythian blushed all the way to his ears as he watched Lalna, his heart fluttering like a caged bird, "So you're sure this is going to work?"

"It should," Lalna said, "But it could also eat through your skin so stay back."

"Are we allowed to be doing something like this?" Rythian asked.

Lalna grinned, "Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission," he said, "We're bloody model students. What are they going to do to us? Expel us and there goes the whole student body average."

The blond continued his mixing, letting Rythian get back to his thoughts, "Are you going to the football game tonight?"

"Doubt it," Lalna said, "I've got a paper to write on the French Revolution and I haven't even started."

Rythian nodded moving to look over his friend's shoulder, "You have all weekend," he said, "My parents are out of town until Monday. You could come over. I'll rent some movies or something."

Lalna glanced back at Rythian, "Get your goggles on Rythian!" he scolded playfully, "You could lose an eye!"

Rythian complied, moving to lean against the countertop, "We could do something else if you want, just hang out?"

Lalna glanced over and noticed the way Rythian stood, elbows propped up behind him in a way that made his back a gentle, graceful arch. His eyes trailed upward until he met Rythian's expectant gaze, "Uh... sure we can hang out ," he muttered, turning back to the beaker of yellow fluid. His hands were shaky as he added the next ingredient, too much of it. Far too much, "Fuck," he said when it started to billow a grayish purple vapor.

Lalna rushed to the windows and opened them in order to keep the smoke detectors from going off.

"This doesn't eat metal, right?" Rythian called over the hiss of the smoke, pulling on his safety gloves.

Lalna stumbled as he reached the last window and slammed it open, "Just pour it down the drain before it gets worse!"

Lalna heard Rythian's mutter of agreement and then something loud, like a gunshot peppered with the delicate shattering of glass, and then Rythian was screaming. The blond spun around and saw Rythian. His face, everything below his goggles, was an eruption of gore, blood and glass. Lalna ran to him and hauled them both under the emergency shower, pulling the chain.

Water poured over them and Lalna lifted Rythian's chin as gently as possible so the water ran over his face, his head resting back against the blond's shoulder. When Rythian's screaming had died down to sputtering sobs, Lalna dug his waterlogged phone from his pocket and dialed 999, holding Rythian tight against him and muttering apologies as he waited for the emergency operator to pick up, "I'm so fucking sorry," he whispered.

* * *

It took four hours for Rythian's parents to get back into town, and they were hysterical. He was still in surgery, so they were made to wait in the same trauma ward where Lalna had been since the emergency room had shooed him off. He watched them from the corner of the room, trying to make himself as small as possible. Rythian's parents had a long history of disapproval when it came to Lalna, ever since the dead cat incident when they were seven. Rythian would have been happy to keep his nose in his fantasy books and play wizard in the garden, but Lalna had ambition, and Lalna needed an assistant.

His own parents would kill him, that much was certain. They'd put up with a lot over the years, the explosions in the garage and the fires and the multiple trips to the hospital, their son always a grinning, babbling ball of excitement. Science was his passion, his drug, his fucking life.

But now, he wanted to take it all back, give it all up just to repair the damage he'd done to his best friend.

The time for thinking ended abruptly when the footsteps' fast approach tore him from his self-pity. He had barely lifted his eyes when the slap came, hard and shockingly sudden. He stared dumbfounded up at Rythian's mother, his eyes welling with tears of surprised humiliation. Her face was angry, but more sad than anything, a woman broken; she never said a word, collapsing back into tears when her husband touched her shoulder.

Lalna leapt to his feet and left the hospital quickly without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Blame and injured pride swelled within him until the tears came freely, silenced by the small town traffic as he made the long walk home across town. He pulled his coat tight around him as his tears melted gradually to a colder resentment that saw him home where his parents were waiting in various stages of baffled anger. He endured far worse than the slap of a hysterical stranger that evening, where his begging and wails were quieted by windows and walls and neighbors all too used to the sounds of familial unrest.

Suspended for two weeks. It was a fairly light sentence, compared to what Lalna had expected. He was banished to his bedroom-stripped clean of any of his usual toys, of course, even the fish tank-and grounded. The beatings on the first night was simply an added bonus for walking home alone in freezing weather. Two weeks of schoolwork took him two days and then he was alone, left with either mediocre cable television or the deafening silence of a room without machines.

Finally, he turned to the television, watching terrible scifi and horror until he started to internalize. Every mad scientist was himself. Every poor self-aware monster was Rythian. He wondered if they would ever talk after this, if Rythian even could talk. His face had been as close to destroyed as anything could be. Was there even a mouth left when the surgeons had finished suturing and splicing? Lalna suddenly realized the buzz of excitement, the chills running through his body as he imagined it again and again, the blood, the glass, the screams, the beeping of monitors and the frantic hushed jargon of the doctors and orderlies.

Lalna felt a burning behind his eyes and then the tickling of tears as they slid down his cheeks unchecked. He took one deep, shaky breath and his hands curled into fists before he swallowed it all down, the mourning, the pain, the fear, the arousal, all of it, and he was himself again.

* * *

"What in God's name was he thinking?" Xephos said, "How many times have we been told not to skulk around the lab after school?"

"One too few," Sjin said softly, "Poor Rythian. I can't believe this happened."

Sips threw his cigarette onto the ground, "Say what you want about it. Even I've known the cops were gonna find a bunch of skulls or dissolved cheerleaders in his basement ever since I moved here. The guy's batshit crazy."

Xephos and Sjin were silent, hoping for something more comforting than Sips' cold realism, "Lets just go up and see how he's doing before I lose my nerve," Xephos said, opening the hospital's glass door.

It was a silent ride in the elevator, neither Sjin nor Xephos willing to speculate about Rythian, and Sips was mercifully respectful of their discomfort. He was, after all, just the chauffeur on their little expedition. The hallway of the trauma ward was quiet save for the beeping of machines and the occasional groan of a patient. The smell was sharp, disinfectant and blood and perhaps underneath it all a little bit of death. Sjin went through the door first after knocking softly. Rythian's mother met them with a tired smile and thanked them for coming. She didn't warn them, and that alone eased Xephos' concern. Rythian was awake, his eyes startling clear despite his entire face below being obscured by bandages and gauze. His breathing was a soft, hollow, mournful sound and Sjin wiped his eyes to keep up his brave front, "Hullo, Rythian."

Rythian looked them over, glanced toward the door and then closed his eyes, looking relieved, "It's just you," he said, his voice slightly garbled and his words came out slowly, deliberate.

Xephos moved to Sjin's side then, "How are you feeling?"

Rythian's brow furrowed and Sjin took his hand, patting his arm, "We'll be glad to see you back at school. Everyone's missing you."

"Everyone," Rythian said, and it sounded bitter despite the difficulty.

Sips had stayed near the door, and made a soft grunt of agreement, then gave Rythian's mother his most charming smile when she glanced in his direction.

"Anyway," Sjin said handing Rythian the musty book he'd been clutching, "We started reading Lord of the Flies and I thought reading might take your mind off of things. I know how much you love to read. As far as assigned books go, it isn't terrible."

Rythian nodded and his mother stood back up, "Thank you, all of you. It's going to be another couple of weeks before he gets out of the hospital. It'll help him pass the time. For now, he needs to rest."

Sips jingled his car keys, signaling that he was ready to go as well, and Sjin smiled at Rythian, "Get well soon," he said, then joined Sips in the doorway.

"He... he didn't mean it, Rythian," Xephos blurted, and hurried out without waiting for a reply, nearly bowling the other two.

Sjin was on Xephos as soon as they reached the parking lot, "What was that?!"

"I know we agreed but I couldn't just leave it like that! I'm sure Lalna is miserable over this. If I burned off Honeydew's face I hope you would say the same thing!" Xephos said, flustered.

Sips interjected calmly, "There's no way either of you are going to make this better, ignoring it or trying to fix it, either way. Things are gonna be shit between them. You're safest just staying out of the way until you're asked for help or they'll find a way to turn it on you, believe me."

"Shut up, Sips. You have no idea what they are going through," Xephos interjected, "You've always got something negative to say."

"You are too negative, Sips. Xephos was only trying to help," Sjin said, "By being an insensitive jerk."

They dissolved back into their bickering, completely ignoring their third-wheel driver. Sips blinked and sighed, climbing into his car, "Shoulda followed my own advice on that one."

* * *

The familiar thunderclap backfire of his car seemed foreign after so long without it, and it was even stranger without Rythian's complaining. There was no one waiting for papers, no one to say hello, no attention whatsoever. It was cold, and he pulled his bomber jacket tighter around him and walked to the cafeteria. The air left his lungs in white clouds with each exhale, and his sneakers crunched loudly on frozen leaves that had fallen from even the most stubborn trees that lined the atrium sidewalk at the center of the school buildings. It was quiet, hauntingly so, and Lalna found himself wishing that it would rain.

A good rain would clear the smell of snow and silence, and it always made the school smell like rust and mildew as the weather warmed, like some great living machine built to swallow children. He imagined the morbidity of such a thing, reveling in his fantasies as he planned out his next drawing for art class, the schematics of a child-eating monster machine disguised as a building. It would be one of the works that the teacher would save and show his parents, feigning concern over his home life. His father would likely beat him and his mother would bake herself another cake.

The broken domestic cycle had once left Lalna wondering how he'd crawled out of the primordial mud that was his gene pool and managed to nurture a keen intellect, but in time he had grown aware that he was simply one snakelet in a nest of vipers. The cafeteria was warm and bright against the backdrop of the cold early morning; there was a comforting thrum of background activity that helped him escape the silence, but nothing dulled the oddity of life without Rythian, and he was looking forward to the boy's return. He hadn't been allowed to leave home while suspended, and he was still grounded when outside of school, but eventually Rythian would come back. Then things would be right again, Lalna promised himself.

* * *

Their eyes bored into him, splitting flesh and bone to expose the most vulnerable parts of him that bubbled with anger and resentment and self-pity like festering tar pits in his chest. Sjin had given his standard friendly greeting and had avoided looking anywhere but directly into Rythian's eyes. It had been awkward, and both boys were grateful when Sips dragged him off muttering about breakfast. Honeydew waved to him but kept his distance when he got nothing in return; Xephos was another story entirely, and seemed insistent on having an encounter even more awkward. He prodded him about his health and even went to far as to mention the scarf he had covering his face, "Is that against the school dress code?"

"It would be if I didn't have a legitimate reason to wear it," Rythian growled, and Xephos was startled by the tone. Rythian had never thrown tantrums or even cried in their early childhood days, but he was different now, and it was time everyone learned, "I think you'll find our classmates would be far more distracted by my actual face than the scarf."

Xephos was at a loss for words, and his befuddlement was cut mercifully short by Honeydew's intervention, "Right, time to eat, Xeph!" he said cheerfully, "Bye Rythian, it was fairly awful talking to you!"

Rythian almost smiled at the short teen's forward words, but humiliation had frozen the humor in him the second he saw Xephos' eyes fix on the scarf.

It wasn't anything fancy, the scarf, but it was his shield from the world, his barrier, his bubble. It kept his true self hidden away physically when he'd managed to swallow his old mentality weeks prior. His mother had relented after days of his tearful begging, guilting and the ugly teenage equivalent of a toddler's tantrum. It was opaque but still let him breathe. It had been uncomfortable at first, but he'd already gotten used to breathing only from his nose to avoid moving his face back when it was still a mess of stitches and drains and the scarf made little difference. It was black to match Rythian's new wardrobe, another concern of both parents but his father was too busy and his mother too pitying to assert any real power over the matter. He took what he could get, walling himself off brick by brick in any way he could think of. He feared it still wouldn't be enough once he finally ran into Lalna, but Rythian had spent almost every waking moment planning what he would say when they finally met again.

It wasn't the dramatics that were expected, but rather Lalna sitting expectantly at their old lab table, his face brightening when Rythian crossed the threshold. Rythian avoided his gaze and sat toward the back of class at a table with his new lab partner, Nano. She was as thrilled as he was to be there, but she didn't speak to him and she stayed out of his way and let him do their class work in peace. When class ended, Rythian was at the door and down the hall before Lalna could even consider following.

* * *

Rythian kept this up through the rest of the day, avoiding Lalna in the hallway until finally the final class bell rang and Lalna would be at the gym, far away from his Art History class. He was making his way there feeling cocky when he spotted Ridge going the opposite way.

Rythian usually shrunk against the wall when Ridge passed, but that was old Rythian, and now he actually lifted his eyes and met his gaze with a hateful glare. There was little warning, the slightest twitch of a wrist, and Rythian got a face full of soda, hissing with carbonation and cold enough to stop him in his tracks. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit back an audible reaction before continuing on his way down the hall, ducking into the bathroom with Ridge's laughter echoing after him.

He was almost relieved when he found the familiar sight of himself in the mirror, wiping away the sticky soda and humiliation. He'd never been victim to such a blatant act of bullying, but he had also never been out from under Lalna's guiding hand and for all of his pride, he knew that would take getting used to. At least Ridge had the decency not to pity him; that was something. Rythian waited for the bell to signal the start of class before he carefully untied his scarf and lowered it. He splashed water on his face and did his best to wash the soda out of his scarf. It would be wet, but it wouldn't stick to his face for the rest of the afternoon. When the door to the bathroom opened he grabbed the sodden scarf and quickly tied it in place. Half expecting Ridge to be after him, the actual reflection he saw behind him sent a chill down his spine, "Hullo, Rythian. We got a free period. Are you skipping?"

Rythian spun around and tried to say the thousands of things he'd rehearsed, but instead he just sidestepped Lalna and headed for the door. The blond slammed his hand to the wall, blocking Rythian's path in the way that used to make him shiver with tense anticipation, their little dance of dominant and submissive, "Can I see it?"

Rythian was actually dumbfounded, his mind trying to process what he'd just heard, but Lalna pressed on, "Your face I mean. I just want to see it."

Where cold had settled over him, indignation burned hot in the furnace of his heart, stoked by pride and humiliation, "No," he growled.

Lalna shrugged, "I tried to come and see you but I was grounded and your mom wouldn't let me past the front door when I snuck out."

"Get away from me," Rythian said.

"I thought we could study tonight. I saw they gave you a new lab partner. That's probably because they think you're behind. Maybe we can talk to the teacher about it tomorrow," Lalna said, rambling.

"I said get away!" Rythian snapped, "I never want to see your face again. Don't you get it?! Fuck off!"

Lalna's face went from casually pleasant to shocked and settled on righteous animus. Rythian had changed their little game, broken the rules. Lalna always won-that's how Rythian had wanted it, until now. He ducked under Lalna's arm without missing a beat and stepped into the hallway, marching to and through the exit at the end of the hall. The fresh air made the tension his chest release just slightly, allowing him to breathe again.

Lalna grabbed him so fast that at first all he felt was fear and panic, tighter than the other boy's grip on his shirt, "You're never getting away from me, Rythian. We're stuck together."

Rythian wriggled out of his grip and took a step away, but Lalna was there again, this time reaching for his scarf. The rage came roaring back, blinding white, and the only sound he heard was his own screaming as he tackled his friend to the ground.

Lalna's eyes almost gave him pause with their intensity, and he was smiling, grinning, shaking with some kind of silent laughter. Rythian stared back with an expression equal parts terror and disgust; he wanted to squeeze the life out of his eyes, choke the teeth out of his Cheshire grin, but instead he just threw a punch, then another and another, satisfied by the cracking under his knuckles, the soft groan of pain from Lalna and the smearing blood as his cheek split from the impact. Over Rythian's shoulder, the scuffing of sneakers on concrete signaled the time for a hasty exit, and he stood off of the blond, pausing for one last look before taking off through the parking lot.

Xephos and Sjin reached Lalna at the same time, skidding to a stop while Sips jetted past, on Rythian's heels and Sips hit him like a truck. They went to the ground, concrete biting into Rythian's knees and hands. It was the only time the boy had ever even looked directly at him, and that would have made Rythian laugh if Sips hadn't slammed him to the ground hard enough to knock the wind from him. "Stop!" It was Lalna. Xephos and Sjin had gotten him up and he spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, "Just let him go."

Sips stood up at those words, called off like a guard dog and Rythian burned with even more hatred for Lalna as he stood up, adjusting his scarf and running off.

* * *

Embarrassment might be the worst thing a human being can feel, worse than physical pain, than heartache, than love, because embarrassment is almost always self-inflicted, self hatred dressed up in pity and disparagement. Just before the incident, Rythian had felt embarrassment almost never, easily brushing aside the most awkward of situations, but now, with a ruined face and a heart full of hatred, he felt it over and over like a wheel he just couldn't stop spinning. Self-pity was the warm blanket he used to keep out the cold loneliness he felt now even though the solitude had been his own choice.

He had wandered across town in his pique, and it was already growing dark when it started to rain, hard and cold like stinging icicles that poured down on him. It was nice to feel something other than bitterness, but soon the shivering became too much and he had to seek shelter in the only building on the street that wasn't dark.

The door swung open as he approached and loud music and smoke rushed out at him. He and Lalna would never have gone into a place like that, and that thought alone drove him inside, finally out of the heavy rain. The music was coming from the band on the dusty stage, and when Rythian's eyes settled on the lead, a pleasant shiver ran up his spine. She was young, somewhere close to his age; her eyes reflected the blue of the stage lights and her red hair went purple. Her guitar whined like something otherworldly and her voice was glowing embers burning away all of the ugliness in his heart. When he felt eyes on him, Rythian found a small table in a dark corner-to be fair, the entire place was dark-and sat, trying to avoid drawing attention while also keeping an unobstructed view of the stage.

Mesmerized, he stared slack-jawed until a hand on his shoulder made him jump. It was a waitress, or what he assumed passed for a waitress in such a place. She looked on edge and annoyed and Rythian guessed his appearance was to blame, "You want a drink?" she barked, sizing him up and she might as well have asked outright if they were being robbed.

Rythian hesitated then muttered, "Red wine."

She stared him down and it took all of Rythian's resolve to keep his expression unchanging, but he succeeded, and she walked away through the crowd. His heart fluttered at the fact that he'd just ordered alcohol, although he had no plans to drink it. He'd always been well-behaved, never getting into trouble unless Lalna had-Rythian resolved to stop thinking about Lalna so much.

The waitress returned and slid the glass across the table toward him, her gaze once again locked on his. Rythian tried not to appear as uncomfortable as he felt as he paid her, turning his attention back to the band and trying to ignore the woman when she stared a second longer before leaving him be.

The girl with red hair was otherworldly, like a witch plucking his heartstrings with each strum of her guitar. Her words swam out in a voice that was aether, past lips that wove spells into the smoky darkness of the bar. Rythian had never seen a girl that didn't terrify him, but he had certainly never seen a girl like this. Despite her perfection, he almost had the urge to move closer, catch her eye, perhaps even have a conversation when she wasn't otherwise occupied, a thought which should have frightened him. The most glaring effect of her singing was one that Rythian didn't notice, the absence of Lalna in his thoughts. For the first time since he was very young, his mind was free of the blond scientist, and captured by another far more mesmerizing.

The set ended far too soon, leaving Rythian alone to his thoughts, staring at the wine on the table and listening to the ringing in his ears. The redhead's voice was still a ghost in his heart, and when he saw her, it seemed like his imagination at first.

She slid into the seat across from him so suddenly that Rythian didn't even have time to react, "Hi. What's your name?"

Rythian could have swallowed his tongue, but he settled for grimacing under his scarf, "Rythian."

"I like that name," she said, "I'm with the band."

"You're good," Rythian said, doing his best to be suave.

She smiled, "Your scarf is so mysterious. What are you hiding under there?"

Anyone else asking about his face would have thrown Rythian into the biggest of hissies, but something about the way she asked, the eye contact, her gentle smile, something made her so very different. He opened his mouth to reply and then reached up, pulling the scarf down instead and expecting a reaction of horror, revulsion or at least pity.

She just kept on smiling, "It's beautiful," she said, and the look in her eyes told him that she meant it.

"I... thanks?" Rythian said stiffly. He moved to fix the scarf but her hand stopped him, and she kissed him so suddenly he had no time to protest.

Her lips were warm and soft, and even against his scars that were usually so maddeningly numb, he felt the pressure of her there, unwavering and steady, unlike his own trembling hesitations. It was a new experience, far from clumsy and awkward, and when her tongue traced his scarred bottom lip, he shivered in delight instead of fear. A soft clicking drove them apart, and Rythian quickly pulled his scarf into place. The bassist, a very tall man with a shaved head and so tattooed that he looked reptilian, was tapping his ring on the back of the booth where the redhead sat. His eyes were yellow with vertical slits for pupils, and even though Rythian knew they were contacts, it gave him the creeps, "Oh, that's Tee," the singer said, rising from her spot, "He's my cousin. Tee this is Rythian."

The man grinned like a dragon; his teeth were sharp-filed or capped-and he had a split tongue, but he didn't say a word. Rythian raised his hand in a small, nervous wave. When the man seemed satisfied with Rythian's discomfort, he tapped the girl on the shoulder and jerked his head to the door, "Time to go," she said apologetically, "We're playing here again tomorrow night. Will you be here?"

"Maybe," Rythian said, feigning composure.

She smiled and took off her scarf; it was a midnight purple, "Here. Green is really more my color, and it matches your eyes better than black."

Rythian looked down at the scarf, then back up, "I didn't get your name."

"You didn't," she said, walking out with the dinosaur bassist on her heels.

Rythian sighed and sank further into his seat until a harsh glare from his old friend the waitress drove him outside into the night.

* * *

A/N: I hope this story kept the moral ambiguity I was going for. I see a lot of fics-that I love-have Rythian struggling valiantly against the unprovoked evil of Lalna and I wanted to do something a tad different that maybe delved deeper into an immature Rythian and an emotionally unhealthy Lalna. Meh.


End file.
